


It Was Hard to Tell Just How I Felt

by grenadine



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-25
Updated: 2007-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grenadine/pseuds/grenadine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What else would you call it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Hard to Tell Just How I Felt

**Author's Note:**

> Comment fic for daygloparker. Prompt was the lyrics below. Takes place just prior to "The Return".

__  
  
_the saddest part of a broken heart  
isn't the ending so much as the start_

 _{feist ~ let it die}_

 _  
_

__

__Karen arrives in Scranton two weeks before she's due to start work. She moves into a crappy hotel near Jim's house and spends her days sitting on the bed, circling apartment listings in red marker. At night, Jim takes her out, and she guesses they're dating now.

Jim never really says, never specifies, but Karen's pretty sure. What else would you call it?

The night before they start work, they go to Chili's. At the restaurant he asks the waitress for the children's menu with the crayons to make Karen laugh. ("What can I say. I just really love their little chicken crispers. And...I'm anorexic. Did I not mention that?")

As they eat, he doodles on the menu, and starts crayoning over and over the same spot. Karen looks across the table.

"You have a grudge against that dinosaur or something?"

"What?" He looks down at the picture he's almost completely obscured with green crayon, and Karen thinks he must not have noticed. "Oh, yeah, him and me go way back."

She laughs. "You missed a spot," she gestures with a forkful of fajita meat.

"Oh, nice save," he says, but he keeps eating like it's no big deal. Which it isn't, she thinks. Why would it be?

~

After dinner, he takes her ice skating, which Karen's pretty good at, thank you very much. As she rounds the rink, aiming for speed, he leans against the wall and watches her, smiling.

She finally comes screeching to a halt, throws up a spray of ice about five inches from Jim's face. He has to put out his hands to catch her and they almost fall over.

"Whoa, there, Filippelli, you trying to kill me?" he says, laughing, and kisses her.

Later, when they're taking off their skates, she catches him staring at the ice with a glassy look on his face.

"Hey," she says, and when he doesn't answer, she puts her hand on his arm. "Hey. Are you okay?"

He turns to look at her, and for a moment it's like he doesn't recognize her, doesn't even know who she is.

Then he snaps out of it. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I'm fine."

You're lying, she thinks.

But she says, "So, want to come see what's left in the minibar?"

~

Karen wakes up about four in the morning and finds Jim next to her, wide awake, hands behind his head, and staring at the ceiling. She thinks he must be nervous about going back, that it must not be easy to leave and return and have to start all over again.

It's not like he's totally alone, though. And neither is she.

"Hey," she says, rolling over to look at him, "It's gonna be fine tomorrow."

He perks up a little, looks over at her face. "Yeah?"

She chuckles. "Come on, your boss can't be that bad."

He snorts, tips his chin to his chest. "You...would be surprised."

"Seriously, I'm not even sure I believe all the stories you told me." Because, really. She's not _that_ stupid.

Karen's not getting an answer, so she reaches over, pulls out his hand from behind his head, gives it a short squeeze. "I'm sure I'm more than a match for the Scranton office, Jim. Don't worry so much."

He sighs, but gives her a brief smile. "I won't. And anyway," he squeezes her hand back, "I'm not worried about you at all."


End file.
